


Bonds

by Epitumbidia



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 23:11:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11679066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Epitumbidia/pseuds/Epitumbidia
Summary: A sleepless night leads Noctis to a discovery about the armiger and how it reaffirms his bond to Ignis.Written for #ignoctweek 2017 (Timed Quest Day 3 - 絆 Kizuna: Bonds)





	Bonds

Rare was the night that Noctis couldn’t sleep through.

That was where he found himself, staring into the darkness of his tent. Everything that’s happened on his journey thus far weighed heavily in his mind, so much so that he couldn’t quiet the voices of discontent inside himself. Everything should’ve been so simple, the plan was clear-cut: make covenants with the Astrals, stop Niflheim, and restore order to the world. But meeting Gods took a toll, ones that he wasn’t expecting. His body felt weaker, his mind easier to fatigue. The use of magic was always going to be a blessing and a curse—seeing his father’s decline saw to that to Noctis’ mind—but the longer he traveled, more a burden the power became.

Anger wasn’t a flame, one that burned bright and dissipated just as quickly; no, it was closer to water, running under the surface of his blood that ebbed and flowed as time went on. In times like these, Noctis shifted his magic through the armiger, counting what he held as a way to calm himself. In a way, the armiger grounded him, reminding him of his goals—that no matter what he felt about the injustices of the world and the power bestowed to him, he was bound to this. This power was his birthright and if he couldn’t avoid what his destiny had placed for him, he could at least use this power for the good of the world if nothing else.

But tonight, in this moment, the lack of tiredness meant Noctis couldn’t force the issue. Instead of tossing and turning uselessly, Noctis snuck out of the tent, careful not to step on his companions as he walked into the midnight air. The haven’s glow cast an almost sickly glow against his pale skin, but Noctis welcomed it. That light meant protection and under it, he started going through his armiger without fear of waking anybody else.

His friends’ weapons were in there, each one having a different weight and feel to distinguish each other.

Prompto’s guns felt hot and alive under Noctis’ skin, the magic flowing against him as he remembered the smell of burning metal. Prompto always made it appoint of not abusing his connection to the armiger, as was his considerate nature—one that Noctis expected no less from, but always appreciated.

Gladiolus’ greatswords may as well been boulders for their heaviness, yet they represent their owner so well; steady and sure, his shield’s offense was their greatest defense in the heat of battle. Lumbering through his weapons was never Noctis’ favorite exercise, as his blood would often slow whenever Gladio called for his sword. In battle, however, none of that matter to Noctis’ so much as friend’s safety did.

Ignis’ daggers, however, never had a set motion or feeling. One moment, the weapons would pass through the armiger without Noctis noticing them; other times, their removal was deliberate, as slow as a cut would appear on his skin long after he had been injured. But everything about Ignis was measured and true, no moment spared to waste.

Just as when those daggers disappeared from Noctis’ armiger this night, right as he called for them.

Sitting up startled from the sudden removal, Noctis turned his head around, only to see that Ignis had snuck up quietly behind him. Because of course he did, Noctis thought to himself, needing a reminder that his advisor knew him better than he knew himself at times. Sitting on his knees, Ignis held his daggers in his lap before dismissing them back into the armiger. He didn’t bother to hiding his weariness at seeing his Prince up so late, but instead, he simply patted his lap. The silent invitation wasn’t lost on Noctis, who crawled to Ignis and laced his head on the other man’s lap. In the quiet of night, they are together like this, just like when they were children and Ignis would help him fall asleep. The nightmares of the Marilith’s attack would haunt him in the immediate aftermath, but Ignis was always present, always there to calm him with his touch.

Ignis would pet him, just as he’s doing now, the chills he would get calming him down. From the day of the attack, Noctis struggled with properly expressing his feelings beyond sarcasm and dry wit; that was his barrier, a way to express himself without getting too close. But Ignis understood that, and Noctis never needed to explain himself to him.

“Noct, you could’ve woken me up if you weren’t feeling well…,” Ignis started, the worry apparent in his voice, try as he might to avoid it.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” Noctis replied, shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head in an attempt to show nonchalance.

“You are never a bother to me, Noct,” Ignis responded without thinking, an instant reaction he would normally hold back in front of their other companions. With a small sigh, Ignish continued: “And if you ever need me, we can signal to each other like this, OK?”

Noctis nodded absently, lost in his advisor’s touch. Noctis didn’t notice Ignis moving closer until their lips met softly. Though this wasn’t the first time, the tenderness Ignis displayed always shocked him; perhaps in the deepest part of his mind, Noctis believed he truly didn’t deserve the dedication.

But tonight, Noctis would push that aside. Together laid in the blue of the haven’s glow, their touches quiet yet heavy, slow yet deliberate. Both knew their time together would be short, but under the stars, they could pretend they were simple people, simple lovers. No propriety, no decrees, but two men who held hopes for a simple life together.

Noctis never thought of the armiger as anything more than a tool for battle. After tonight, the tool became a symbol of the bond that held him to reality, and the bond to the man who loved him above all else.


End file.
